


Queens’ Annual Tradition

by NightFall68



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Borough Annunal Tradition, Broken Bones, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark Coparenting Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Sneaking Around, Some Humor, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24714391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightFall68/pseuds/NightFall68
Summary: Once again, Queens' Annual Tradition of rolling an eight pound cheese down the hill and chasing after it is back. While Aunt May is away and Mr. Stark is busy, Peter decides that he wants to compete in the infamous tradition that is known to cause injuries. His best friend, Ned, accompanies him to the hill, trying to talk him out of participating, but Peter is too stubborn to listen to him.Of course, Peter ends up with a broken leg and no painkillers are strong enough to take the pain away.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	Queens’ Annual Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea came to me when I was messing around on YouTube and saw a video of British people participating in their annual tradition of cheese rolling. I immediately thought of Peter doing something like this and somehow getting hurt and bam...the story is being born. I would like to mention that I'm not a doctor, nor have I ever taken painkillers or broken my leg so if I wrote something wrong in the story, I apologize. Please let me know and I will try to fix it. 
> 
> This story is unbeted at the moment. If anyone would like to the job, please let me know.

**Queens’ Annual Tradition**

**Saturday, May 27, 2017**

**Peter’s Room Queens, New York**

Peter groaned loudly, the only sound he would allow himself in a form to express his pain. Biting his lip almost hard enough to bleed, he wished for the millionth time that day that over-the-counter painkillers would work on his enhance metabolism because if he has to go one more day without any relief, he will go insane. The day wasn’t even half over and already he was going out of his mind with boredom and pain. It especially didn’t help that he had limited mobility and was basically stuck lying on his bed for the day.

Turning his head, Peter glanced at the little white bottle of Tylenol sitting on his nightstand and mentally calculated the earliest time he could safely take his next dose. Tears of frustration welled up in his brown eyes, threatening to spill over when he realized he still had two hours remaining before he could have his next dose of pills. He didn’t even know why he was upset; the regular strength was barely taking the edge off his suffering. Unfortunately, those were the only pills available in the apartment and he rather have something to dull the searing pain spreading up and down his leg, even if it was only slightly, than have nothing at all.

Peter decided then that he would try to rest, hoping that time would go faster that way. Besides, he was exhausted due to the fact that he was in absolute agony throughout the night and couldn’t get comfortable enough to sleep. Perhaps if he try again, his body will allow him to sleep since the more rest he got, the faster he would heal.

As he leaned his head back against his pillow, his eyes landed on a roll of cheese standing up on his desk. The sight of it dressed in ribbons once more sharply reminded him of how he ended up in this situation to begin with.

* * *

It all started when Peter had this brilliant idea to participate in a tradition that Queens held annually to celebrate its community. The tradition, copy from the British, was to run down a dangerous-sloped hill and chase after a large roll of cheese that was dressed in ribbons containing the borough’s color of sky blue and white. The first person to make it down the hill and over the finish line receive the eight-pound cheese as their trophy for winning the competition. The race was infamously known for causing multiple injuries as competitors hurried down the hill in hopes of getting the cheese, and there has been countless discussion throughout Queens and its council meetings to disband the ritual due to concerns over health and safety. However, those yearly discussions never resulted in anything being physically done about the contest, therefore Queens would once more announced the race for that year.

Due to the high risk of injury, an age limit was set which only permitted older teenagers and adults to participate in the event. Those too young to compete had the opportunity to partake in the youth version of the race which involved them racing up the hill for the cheese instead of down. Admittedly, Peter was still not old enough to race in the older teen/adult competition by a few months, but he really wanted to participate in the big match, so he lied about his age on the entrance form. He wasn’t afraid of getting caught since he was on his own for the next few days, with May out of town for work and Mr. Stark busy attending meetings for his company. Besides, if he managed to hurt himself, his ability to heal quickly would take care of the injury long before Aunt May or Mr. Stark saw him.

Since Peter was out of school for the summer, the only one who knew about Peter’s plan to compete in the older teen/adult match was his best friend, Ned. At first, Ned was excited when he heard the news, but soon realization set in, forcing him to point out that Peter was not old enough to race in that particular competition. When the teenager mention how he planned to get around that rule, his friend try everything he could to persuade him not to enter. Unsurprisingly, Ned failed in his endeavor to change his friend’s mind since Peter was too stubborn to listen to reason.

So Ned decided to accompany Peter to the area the competition was being held to show his reluctant support for his friend. Of course, he also wanted to attend because he was worry about Peter getting hurt and didn’t want his friend to be alone in his suffering. Before the two teenagers had left, Ned had informed his parents that they were only going to watch the races this year since they were tired of participating in the youth match several times in the past. Seeing no problem with the boys’ plan, Ned’s mother agreed and asked if they wanted a ride to the site. Obviously, the teenagers refuse Mrs. Leed’s kind offer, stating that they would just take the subway in fear of her discovering Peter’s plan to join the older competition.

So off they went, and nothing was said about Peter’s age on the entrance form once he’d handed it in to the officials. They just simply smiled, directed him on where to go while he waited for his race and told him good luck. Then before Ned knew it, all the youth races were over and it was time for the older folks to compete.

The women went first, the race ending in a matter of minutes with five participants injured in various places and ranging between minor and serious. The person who had the minor injury was a young woman by the name of Aaliyah Bell, who had broken a few of her fingers on her right hand. Undoubtedly, the most serious was from an individual named Babs Caldwell, who suffered a possible neck and back injury, with concern that her spine could have been affected as well. Of course, the winner of the race didn’t come out unscathed either. Apparently, Cadence Anderson was being treated for a dislocated left shoulder, the proof of her injury in a form of white bandages preventing her arm from moving around.

Deeply concern for his friend’s safety, Ned chewed on his fingernails as he unwillingly watched his friend get in a ready position at the top of the hill. Unsurprisingly, the turnout for the older races were huge, the amount ranging between thirty to fifty people competing in their respective match. Of course, the Philippine boy was more concern about Peter getting hurt than his chance of bumping into someone or having a good race, which is why he mentally sent up a prayer to protect Peter during this foolish stunt.

Then a minute later, the race began and the male competitors flew down the hill. Some were smart enough to slide down on their bottoms while others choose to risk injuring themselves by running downhill. Ned felt his heart stop as he noticed Peter losing his balance within minutes of the match and begin to tumble sideways down the steep slope like a bouncing ball. His momentum was so fast that the teenager wasn’t able to correct his balance, so Ned watched in horror as his friend flipped high in the air before somehow turning his body, making the situation even worse.

Apparently gravity wasn’t on Peter’s side today because he was now summersaulting backwards, trying his best to protect his head as he led the group in first place. It was scary how quickly the situation had turned dangerous. One second his friend was fine and then the next he was acting like a ragdoll as he plummeted to the bottom at a swift pace, bring clouds of dirt and dust along with him.

Suddenly, Ned couldn’t watch any longer, closing his eyes as he stood on the sidelines. He had no desire to watch a scene out of a horror movie and prayed that this would be over soon. He just hoped Peter won’t get seriously hurt from this or else their families will hear about it, and then they could just kiss their summer goodbye since they would be grounded for the rest of their break. And Ned _so_ didn’t want to be locked in his room without his friend or any technology to mess around with while he served out his sentence.

A loud burst of clapping and whistling erupted around him, effectively bringing Ned out of his thoughts and back to reality. Afraid of what he would find, he slowly opened his eyes and noticed right away that the race was over, and that the competitors were all hanging out at the bottom of the hill. Relieved that it was finally over, Ned started his search for Peter. He stood up on his tippy-toes and strain his neck as far as it would go while his eyes wandered from person to person. He noticed that there were some paramedics surrounding several individuals but didn’t bother to find out who was hurt as he still had to find Peter in the crowd.

A minute went by and still Ned didn’t have any luck locating his friend. He was just about to head down to the bottom when a bright red t-shirt caught his eye, stopping him in his tracks. He try to get a closer look but there was too many medics surrounding the person, preventing Ned from identifying if it was Peter or not. Luckily, one of the medical workers shifted a few seconds later and Ned finally got a good look at the injured individual.

Immediately, Ned felt his breath leave him as he discovered that the injured person happened to be Peter. He didn’t know what was wrong with him nor did he care at the moment to find out. All Ned wanted was to hurry down to his friend and stay by his side while Peter received medical help. He didn’t even stop to wondered how serious Peter was injured or if they would need to make a trip to a hospital as he carefully made his way down the hill.

What seemed like hours to Ned but was only several minutes, he finally reach the bottom of the hill. As soon as his feet touch level ground, the Philippine ran as fast as he could, weaving and twisting around the mass of people as he headed for Peter, who was still laying on the ground. The numbers of paramedics had lessen during the time it took Ned to get down from the top and he was happy to see that his friend was moving around a little, waving his arms while one of the workers checked to see if he had broken any ribs. He figured if Peter was already moving about then whatever injury he had couldn’t be too serious, right?

“Peter,” Ned called his friend’s name as he slid to his side, making sure he didn’t accidentally bump any of the medics as they continued to work around Peter. Before Peter could open his mouth to say anything, Ned turned to a nearest worker and asked, “What’s wrong with him?”

“Are you his friend?” a middle-age woman with long brown hair asked him kindly.

Ned nodded his head. “Yes, I’m his friend. Now what is wrong with Peter? Is he going to be alright?”

The brunette woman glanced at her last remaining coworker who was helping her with Peter before turning back to Ned. “Yes, your friend is going to be alright. But I’m afraid that Peter here has broken his left leg, possibly on that last backward summersaulted he took.” Peter let out a painful groan then as the other paramedic began to stable him, getting him ready to move. “Thankfully, he doesn’t have a head or neck injury, which is a miracle in it self from the way he was tumbling down that hill. Anyway, my colleague and I were just finishing our checkup, making certain that nothing else was broken before we move him to the medical tent. One of the doctors on duty there will take good care of Peter and get him set up with a cast and crutches for his leg,” she told Ned as she finished checking Peter over for any other injuries.

“Thank you,” he simply said before turning to his friend. “How are you feeling, Peter?”

Peter groaned loudly, faced wet with sweet and twisted in pain. “It hurts. Are you sure I still have my leg because it feels like someone severed it off back there on the hill?”

Despite his friend’s obvious suffering, Ned couldn’t help but smile at the small joke he made. Clearly Peter was going to be alright if he was already joking around with him. “Yes, you still have your leg. Why, don’t you want it?” he joked back.

The medics broke into their conversation then, interrupting just when Peter was about to say something back to Ned. “Don’t worry, buddy,” the male paramedic said, obviously trying to comfort the hurting teenager. “We are almost finish getting you ready to move and then one of the doctors will hook you up with some painkillers over at the tent. You shouldn’t feel a thing after that.”

Peter gave him a small watery smile before focusing his limited attention on Ned, trying to ignore the burning pain coursing through his leg. “Hey, at least I can go home with something. I was afraid I was going to leave the race empty handed, but now I don’t have to worry about that.”

Ned rolled his eyes in exasperation at his friend for participating in this foolish stunt. Thanks to the stupid race, his friend was now lying on the ground in apparent agony with a broken leg, and he was worried about going home without anything to show for his participation in the competition. Clearly the medical workers must have been mistaken about the head injury if that was all Peter was worried about.

“You’re right, you don’t have to worry because you get to go home with a broken leg in your brand-new cast. You must be really proud of that, Peter. Really proud,” Ned replied sarcastically.

The skin on Peter’s forehead scrunched up, causing a crease line to go through it as Peter shot his guy-in-the-chair a confuse look. Apparently, the teenager must be in a great deal of pain for not catching onto his friend’s sarcastic tone. “What are you talking about, Ned? Yeah, I get to go home with a broken leg, but that wasn’t what I meant by my comment,” he managed to utter through tightly clench teeth.

Now it was Ned’s turn to be confuse. “What do you mean?”

“I meant,” Peter threw out as he grabbed his friend’s hand, carefully squeezing it in pain so he didn’t accidently break it with his super-strength. “I meant that I won. I won the race, Ned. Look,” he said, pointing at something behind him.

Ned did look, eyes widening in shock as he immediately noticed the large circle of cheese placed behind Peter’s head. He knew it had to be official from the Queens’ colors on the ribbons and the multiple, black sharpie signatures that decorated the paper, preventing it from getting dirty from the race. Besides, no one else would have a similar cheese from the match if they didn’t win, so Peter was telling the truth. He won. He actually won the competition! Not that he didn’t believe his friend, but wow! He wasn’t expecting his friend to win. Possibly come home injured and losing, but not winning.

Ned turned to Peter; surprise clearly written all over his face. “I know,” Peter chuckled lightly, face still screwed up in pain. “I still can’t quite believe it either and I was the one that was in the race.”

“How,” was all he managed to say, still processing the fact that Peter won.

Peter tried to shrug his shoulders but was in too much pain to move them. “I don’t really know. One minute I was tumbling down the hill, feet over head, and the next I found myself being caught by a couple of catchers and told that I won the competition. I didn’t really give it much thought after that once I started feeling the excruciating pain shooting up my leg.”

Ned gave his friend a smile, squeezing the hand still encased in Peter’s in a silent form of congratulation. He then opened his mouth, ready to congratulate Peter out loud. “Congrats, man!” He said happily. “I wished I could have saw it, but it got scary there towards the end and I couldn’t watch it anymore. I’m sorry,” he apologized, a remorse expression on his face. Then a moment later, his expression brightened. “Hey. On the bright side, I did get to see you in the lead as you were coming down. That was pretty cool.”

Peter didn’t reply, only giving his friend a thumb up as tears of pain began to well up in his brown eyes. Ned just squeezed his hand in comfort before repeating the action again seconds later when the paramedics informed them that it was time to move Peter. Before Ned knew it, Peter was carefully placed on a stretcher (his prize resting in his arms) and taken to a nearby tent where the doctors were probably located. The tent was large and white, and there were several people inside who were being treated for injuries or simply giving it to them. Of course, Ned didn’t have time to really look around because Peter was then being transferred to a bed found in a doctor’s office.

After making sure that Peter was alright, or as alright as one can be with a broken leg, the two medics left, probably to help someone else who was unfortunately hurt. Ned continued to hold Peter’s hand as they waited for a doctor to attend to Peter’s broken leg, talking softly to each other in order to distract Peter from the pain. A few minutes later, a kind-looking doctor approached the pair and Ned turned his full attention onto him.

And the rest as they said is history.

* * *

Peter was brought home hours later with an Iron Man red cast and uncomfortable wooden crutches that made walking slow and difficult. It especially didn’t help that Peter had to take the subway and then walk all the way home, but he refused Ned’s offer of getting his mom to pick them up. If Mrs. Leeds found out what Peter had done and the fact that Ned didn’t stop him, Aunt May would soon hear about it and he would find himself grounded. As well as Ned. They would be locked up in their houses for the summer and not allowed to see each other’s until the new school year started. And Peter certainly didn’t want that to happen, so he stupidly said no and with Ned’s help, started the long journey home.

The painkillers the doctor had given him the day before had long since expired during the night, and the only medicine that Ned found that could help didn’t fully work on him. Although the stuff the doctor had given him worked amazingly on him, he was sadly only given enough for two doses. One taken there in the tent and the other at home as he laid on his bed, washing the pills down with a cup of water his friend had thoughtfully given him.

Ned didn’t even want to go home after getting him settled in bed, afraid of leaving Peter in case he needed help. And as much as Peter would had enjoyed the company, he told his friend to go home, pointing out that his mother was expecting him before reassuring him that he would be fine on his own. He also mention that Ned was welcome to come back in the morning and help him should he need it. Which was most likely going to be true despite Peter wished to be independent.

So Ned reluctantly left, but not before making him promise to call him if he needed help with something. Peter promised him that he would, which was the truth, then watch as his friend hesitantly exited his bedroom and then seconds later, his apartment.

Peter didn’t have to call him during the night and Ned did returned to the apartment early the next morning. His friend had originally planned to stay the whole day, keeping Peter company while taking care of him, but his mother informed him before he left that his younger sister had a dance recital at noon and he was expected to attend. Obviously, Ned tried to get out of it, but his mother wouldn’t hear of it. He futilely protested with an excused that he was planning on spending the entire day with Peter, but unfortunately, his mother shot the plan down, informing her son that Peter could survive without him for a few hours. Right then, Ned wanted to say that he wasn’t sure about that but kept quiet in fear of his mother asking unwanted questions that he didn’t want to answer.

After that, Ned had left for Peter’s apartment. As soon as the Philippine had arrived, he sadly gave his friend the bad news as he gave Peter another dose of painkillers. Of course, Peter understood and once again reassured his friend that he would be alright by himself. After all, he had managed without any problems the night before and could take care of himself while Ned was gone.

Ned had left an hour ago after making sure that all of Peter’s needs were taken care of, promising that he would be back as soon as he could. And here he was now, already an hour alone in his room and bored. Suddenly, he regretted allowing his friend to leave and hoped that he would come back soon. Sadly, that wouldn’t be for another few hours since the recital just started and wouldn’t be over until three in the afternoon. So until then, Peter would have to find something to entertain himself until his friend came back.

Just as Peter was about to doze off, a soft noise caught his attention. In a matter of seconds, he was alert as he sat up in bed, a grimace of pain crossing his face from the sudden movement. His ears focused on the sound, honing in on the loud footsteps coming towards his apartment door.

Whoever it was wasn’t a neighbor just walking by to get to their apartment. No, they were heading straight for his door, their footsteps growing louder and louder with each step they took as they got closer to his apartment.

As carefully as he could, Peter lifted his broken leg off the bed and shifted under the covers, hiding his lower half from view. Then he grabbed the Tylenol bottle and shoved it behind his pillows along with anything else from his nightstand to indicated that he was hurt. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything about the roll of cheese sitting on his desk or his crutches leaning against the wall by his bedroom door. Peter just hoped whoever was planning on robbing him didn’t come into his room since he couldn’t really defense himself at the moment.

That was strange. Whoever was breaking into his apartment had a key, the lock jingling as they made their way through the door. He knew it couldn’t possibly be Aunt May because she was still out of town for work, and he didn’t think it was Mr. Stark because last he knew, Mr. Stark didn’t have access to his apartment.

Quickly, Peter grabbed a computer part that he had been messing with earlier from his nightstand, preparing to launch it at whoever dared to come into his room. He knew from the languid and calm footsteps as they approached his location that they didn’t belong to Aunt May. Hers were more quiet and light whereas these were loud and heavy. But could it really be a robber? How did they get a key to his apartment?

Whoever the person was didn’t say anything, not that Peter expected him to. Robbers didn’t really make themselves known if they didn’t think the house they were attempting to rob was completely empty. Still, Peter was getting nervous as the footsteps grew closer to his bedroom door.

The agony in his leg momentary disappeared as adrenaline races through his veins, readying himself to attack. Holding his breath, he waited in anticipation for the robber. The guy obviously not smart if he had to resort to a life of crime to pay his bills. His fingers tighten around the object in his hand as his doorknob began to turn.

Seconds later, Peter’s bedroom door was pushed open and a figure entered the room. Before his brain had time to process who the person was, Peter pulled back his arm and threw the heavy computer part at the intruder. He knew he had hit his target when he heard a yelp come from the trespasser, the guy holding a spot on his head from where the metal piece had landed. Then the guy started cussing, his voice familiar to Peter’s ears.

“What the…Peter! Shit, that hurt!”

Peter’s eyes widened in alarm. “Mr. Stark, is that you?” he asked hesitantly, not able to see the guy’s face.

“Yeah, or at least I was before I got hit in the head,” the billionaire confirmed his identity, holding a hand to his forehead. “Shit! That’s probably going to leave a mark.”

“Oh, God! I’m so sorry!” Peter apologized, feeling bad for hitting him. “I heard someone come in and I thought it was a robber trying to steal something. Why didn’t you say it was you? And no offense, but what are you doing here? I thought you were busy with SI meetings. Oh, and why do you have a key to the apartment?”

“Woah, kid! One question at a time. I can’t answer if you keep firing them at me,” the mechanic said, sitting down in his desk chair and gingerly rubbing the hurt area on his forehead. Peter winced in sympathy when he got a closer look at his mentor’s head, knowing that he would have a bruise there before morning.

“Sorry,” he apologized again.

Mr. Stark stop rubbing his forehead and look at Peter. “No, I’m sorry. I should have announced my presence before entering, but I thought you were sleeping. I had tried calling you, but you never picked up, so I decided to come check in on you and see how you’re doing without Aunt Hottie around. You were only defending yourself, which I rightly deserve for sneaking up on you like that,” he explained, regret showing clearly in his brown eyes.

“Oh,” Peter said lamely, reaching for his phone to check his messages. Sure enough, Mr. Stark had called him three times in the last two hours and sent five text messages to him. He must have had the phone on silence and forgotten to take it off earlier. He looked back at Mr. Stark, feeling slightly embarrass that he made the billionaire come all the way out here just to check on him when he could be doing something more important. He was a busy man, after all. He didn’t need to babysit him. “Sorry, I forgot that I left it on silence. You also didn’t answer my last question. How…no, why do you have a key to the apartment?”

“Your aunt gave it to me after she found out about you being Spider-Man. She gave it to me in case there was an emergency and I never really had to used it until now. When you weren’t answering my calls or messages, I was getting worry,” the mechanic explained before narrowing his eyes at the teenager.

Peter couldn’t help but squirmed in his bed, feeling like he was on the hot seat now that he had his mentor’s undivided attention. “Why are you still in bed? I know that teenagers like to sleep in until noon, but you’re normally up by now. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he answered. He then felt the urged to added after noticing the man’s suspicious face, “I mean, I’m just really tired, is all. I had a rough night last night and I didn’t get a lot of sleep. Since I don’t have school and Aunt May is gone, I thought I would just chill out here at home and catch up on some sleep.”

The billionaire nodded, apparently not buying Peter’s story. “Hmm. If you’re fine then why do you have tear tracks on your face and tears swimming in your eyes?”

Peter froze in his bed, totally forgetting about the tears of pain he had shed the other night after he had broken his legs. He was so tired once he got home that all he wanted to do was go to sleep. He didn’t even think about washing his face when Ned had come over to check up on him.

“I had a nightmare,” Peter lied. “I was sleeping when I heard you coming and woke up. I didn’t realize that I had been crying.”

If possible, Mr. Stark’s eyes got smaller as they narrowed into slits. “Oh really?” He said in an unbelievable tone. “Pete, I don’t believe that for a second. Sure, you might have been sleeping, but I very much doubt that you were in a midst of a nightmare. And I don’t think you had a rough night last night.”

“It’s true,” Peter defended weakly, curling into himself a little as he saw his mentor’s face switched from suspicious to a cool expression. He could tell the billionaire was starting to get irritated from his lying but trying not to get frustrated as he slowly pulled the truth from Peter. Oh God, he was stuck in bed with no where to go and he didn’t see anyway of getting out of this conversation with the mechanic. He was screwed. He was going to be in so much trouble, he just knew it. Well, so much for having a great summer. It was fun while it lasted.

“Un-huh,” Mr. Stark said non-committedly, turning slightly in his chair. “Where did you get the big roll of cheese? I didn’t know you were a big fan of dairy.”

Peter felt his pulse speed up and sweat beading on his forehead. “I’m not,” he somewhat denied. “I mean, I like dairy, but I wouldn’t say I’m a big fan. And I got the cheese here in Queens for Ned. It’s sort of a present for him.”

“Is that so?” the billionaire frowned, titling his head. “Strange thing to give to someone as a present, don’t you think? Especially, if it’s to your best friend.”

Peter frowned, annoyed that Mr. Stark was mocking his gift. “I don’t think so. You can never go wrong when it comes to cheese. And Ned likes cheese. He told me in the past.”

Slight frustration appeared on the mechanic’s face as he turned back to Peter. “Okay, kid. Cut the crap. I know that you’re lying to me. You’re not very good at it so tell me the truth. Are you hurt? I know you didn’t go out on patrol last night since you said you were going to spend the day hanging out with your friend. Did you get hurt from the night before and didn’t tell me?”

Peter took a deep breath, knowing full well that the jig was up. “Okay, fine,” he huffed, ready to tell the truth. “I did get hurt, but it wasn’t from being Spider-Man. And I already got it taken care of, so I’m fine now. Nothing to worry about. I will be as good as new in a day or two thanks to my super healing.”

“Let me see it, Pete,” Mr. Stark demanded firmly. “I need to see your injury and make sure you’re alright.” Then in a softer, almost pleading tone, he said, “Please tell me you didn’t sew yourself up again. I thought we had been over this already. If you are hurt, no matter if you were out as Spider-Man or not, I want you to let me or your aunt know about it. Something really bad could happen to you if you don’t keep us in the loop, kiddo.”

Seeing the worried look on his mentor’s face made Peter feel horrible, even more horrible than having a broken leg and worthless painkillers. He knew that the billionaire cared about him and had his best interest in mind, but he didn’t like coming to him whenever he was hurt or had a problem because it made Peter feel weak and like, he shouldn’t be Spider-Man any more. Like he was just a little kid, wanting to play in an adult game that he wasn’t allowed to play in.

Suddenly feeling remorse, Peter said, “I know, and I didn’t give myself medical attention this time. A real doctor did.” Pausing for a moment to gain some courage, he said as he looked straight into his mentor’s eyes, “I’m sorry.” Then he pulled back his covers, showing Mr. Stark his red cast, which Ned had already taken the time to signed.

Mr. Stark eyes widened in surprise, instantly getting up and sitting at the foot of his bed for a closer look. “Shit, Pete. How did you do this? How many bones did you break?”

The pain was apparently come back with a vengeance, now that the truth was out and him no longer having something to distract him from the agony. He closed his eyes, trying to prevent the salty tears from falling down his face. Mr. Stark didn’t need to see him cry like a baby. “I did it while I was out with Ned yesterday,” he answered with a half-truth, his voice high and cracked with pain. “And the doctor told me that I had broken my leg in three places,” he added on.

The mechanic carefully inspected his cast-covered leg, touching it in a few places. Mr. Stark sighed, all traces of frustration and anger gone from his voice. “Oh, Peter. Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? I could have picked you up and taken you to the tower to get fix up.”

When Peter heard the billionaire’s soft tone, he opened his eyes and focus on the man sitting on his bed. “You told me that you were busy with SI meetings all weekend, which is why we couldn’t hang out like we usually do. I knew you were busy, and I didn’t want to bother you with this. Besides, there was a doctor nearby that took care of me. Once I had the cast on, I didn’t see the point of telling you,” he replied, voice quiet.

Mr. Stark shook his head in exasperation. “Yes, I was busy, but I would have dropped everything in a heartbeat if you needed me. You wouldn’t have bother me. Actually, I would have very much preferred it than listening to the old men droning on in those long, ass meetings. And whether your leg was taken care of or not, I still would have like a message letting me know that you got hurt.”

Peter huffed in annoyance. “There it is. Mr. Stark, I understand that you’re worry and I’m sorry for not telling you that I was hurt, but I’m not going to tell you every time I get a little bit hurt just so you can come rushing down to get me. Other than needing some stronger painkillers, I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

Mr. Stark sighed. “That just it, kid. I know that you can take care of yourself, but you don’t have to. I’m here now and so is your aunt. We want to help you, but how can we if you don’t let us in. And I don’t care if you simply just stubbed your toe, I want to hear about it, okay.”

A burst of laughter suddenly came out of his mouth. “Don’t you think that is a little extreme?”

His mentor shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe, but I don’t care. I rather know that you’re safe than anything else. Next time you get hurt, though, just tell me, okay? I won’t feel bothered if you do, I promise.”

“Okay,” Peter agreed softly. “I’m sorry,” he hissed out, sharp pains suddenly shooting up his leg.

“It’s alright, Pete.” Then Mr. Stark stood up, clapping his hands together. “Now, you mention you needed stronger painkillers. Let’s me just call Happy and he will bring some of your super pills over.”

Then he pulled out his phone and pressed a button on it, speed dialing Happy’s number as he left the room. Peter just closed his eyes and lean his head back against his pillows, trying to relax as much as he could while he waited for his pills to arrive. Everything was going to be alright.

* * *

**A Few Days Later…**

Everything was not alright.

The whole story of how Peter broke his leg eventually came out as he sat at the kitchen table between Mr. Stark and May. They were understandably upset with him for lying about his age in order to get into the competition. Even more so when he risked his health and safety for an eight-pound roll of cheese as a trophy. Of course, like he had predicted both him and Ned (once Ned’s mother heard the story) were grounded and not allowed to leave their rooms for a week. However, they still have the whole summer to spend together and Mr. Stark promised to keep a closer eye on Peter, adding some restrictions that both him and Aunt May agreed upon.

As for Peter, he decided from now on just to watch the cheese roll competition when it returns for another year. He had no desire to break another leg or be grounded by Mr. Stark and Aunt May. One time was plenty, thank you. Besides, he had other things on his mind at the moment...

**Author's Note:**

> This story is in honor of Gloucestershire, England Annual Tradition of Cheese Rolling. Due to the pandemic, the annual tradition was cancel for the year so I hope this story will make up for missing out on this year's event.


End file.
